


Bleeding Love

by KeiMat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Scisaac Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiMat/pseuds/KeiMat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac Lahey has lived a rough life. His mother passed away when he was just a boy and his abusive father works him nearly to death on their farm house. Things take a drastic turn when what he believes to be simple wolf attacks turn out to be something frighteningly different. Furthermore, he seems to be developing feelings for his friend Scott but is unsure whether or not he can trust him as he seems to harbor his own dark secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Superstitions

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfiction ever. I'm starting a whole AU Teen Wolf thing for Scisaac Week. Go gentle and enjoy.

The town of Beacon Hills was bustling with people today despite it's small population of five hundred or so citizens. It was fall, and with the weather cooling, people felt more active and energetic. Some stood on the porches of their stout log houses conversing with one another, talking about things such as having enough food or firewood for the coming winter months. Things that would become much more important soon enough.

Isaac couldn't help but heave a sigh as he hefted the bag of tools he was carrying onto his shoulder. The burlap bag and it's contents were just a few of the things that he and his father had come into town for. The main quarry being wooden planks. It was rare that they left the farm to travel into town, but when they did it was usually to purchase wares from the market. Isaac loved the numerous merchant stands, and would wander off to peruse them while his father handled whatever business needed attending. The brunette looked over his shoulder casually as his dad conversed with the carpenter they had come to see.

“I heard some of the farms outside of town have been having problems with wolves.” The carpenter, a man built like a brick house, due to years of work, ran a hand over his dark beard as he spoke.

Isaac's father, a thin man with faltering hair and glasses, nodded in confirmation. “Closer and closer to town. I came to buy some wood. Gonna reinforce the fences. Won't have any rabid dogs messing with my bunch.”

Isaac rolled his eyes as he turned his attention away. What his father meant to say, was that he was going to make him reinforce the fences. He had been awaken earlier in the morning to hear about it. His father shook him violently, slapping across the head once, before telling him to stop being lazy because he had work to do. After he had completed his morning chores, his father told him they were going into town to get wood so that Isaac could then work on the fences.

It was the same thing day after day. Ever since Isaac's mother had passed away, his father had been putting more and more pressure on him. At first he thought it would pass, a fleeting reaction to the loss. Years later though it continued to persist, and Isaac had no clue how to deal with it.

Trying to brush the thoughts from his head, Isaac moved over to a nearby merchant stand to look at the wares of a jeweler. He didn't really have an interest in buying anything, but he liked the intricate metal workings of the items. One particular piece caught his eye, a silver necklace and cross. On the simple idea of just touching it, he reached for it, only to bump hands with a person he hadn't realized had come to stand beside him.

“Oh! I'm sorry,” blue eyes flickered up just in time to lock on to a pair of familiar brown orbs. It only took a moment for Isaac to recognize the slightly shorter teen next to him. Scott McCall was one of the boys that he used to play with when he was younger, back when his mother used to bring him into town with her. Scott's mother was the town physician, so when Isaac's mother became ill, the two saw quite a bit of each other. That was until Isaac's mom passed.

Scott was always kind to him though. He always seemed to find a way to cheer Isaac up and make him forget the reason that he was even there in the McCall's home from time to time. It helped that he found them so interesting. The McCall's had actually come from down south, so they're hair was raven black unlike Isaac's golden brown, and they're skin looked constantly tan. It was one of the things that made Scott stand out to Isaac. Not to mention that even as a kid he had a huge heart. Even though his father had left them, rather than dwell on it, Scott did his best to be there for everyone else. It wasn't until now that Isaac realized that they were nearly in the same boat.

“Isaac,” Scott smiled as he recognized the other teen, and Isaac couldn't help but return the gesture. “It's been a while. How've you been?”

“I've been alright. Helping my father with the farms up keep. Nothing special really,” Isaac shrugged. It wasn't special. It was hell sometimes. He wouldn't tell Scott that though, it would ruin the reunion. He had forgotten what it was like being around him. How contagious his smile was. “What about you? Been keeping busy?”

“Kind of,” The shorter teen smiled crookedly as he touched the side of his lip with his index finger, the way someone does when they're thinking back to something. Something that they were either supposed to do, or knew they shouldn't have. “My mom's been trying to get me to help her with her work. I don't mind, but I've just been distracted lately. Stiles isn't much help.”

Isaac remembered Stiles. He and Scott were nearly attached at the hip. That of course was when Stiles wasn't in trouble for something. His father was the sheriff and Stiles had a knack for sticking his nose into business where it didn't belong. That didn't make for a good combination.

“Yeah, I remember him being a distraction in himself,” A smirk appeared on Isaac's lips only to vanish as he tensed, hearing his father's voice raise behind him.

“This whole wolf business is just superstition if you ask me. People getting all worked up because the full moon is coming as usual. I think that storm last week just rattled everything is all.”

Isaac turned his attention back to Scott, noticing that the other was eyeing him curiously. No doubt he noticed the sudden fear in Isaac's eyes. The other boy hadn't even realized he was shaking a bit. Not wanting to draw attention to the reaction though, he cleared his voice and spoke again.

“So what do you think about this whole wolf business?” He asked cocking his head a bit. “Lots of livestock have been disappearing lately and supposedly it's moving closer and closer to town. I hear the sheriff is going to gather a hunting party. My dad's talking about going.” As Isaac spoke he noticed that Scott's expression shifted from concerned to wary. 

Scott looked over at the jeweler who seemed distracted by another customer before pulling Isaac away from the counter a bit off to the side. “I don't know exactly what's going on,” he spoke in a hushed voice which made Isaac focus to listen all the more. “But I think it's a good idea if you stay inside at night. At least until after the full moon.”

Isaac, who was leaning down to hear Scott, smirked and stood straight. A light laugh came from his lips,“What are you talking about? You don't believe the superstitions do you? It's just a wolf.”

Scott shook his head and put his hand on Isaac's arm. His grasp wasn't firm, but Isaac could tell that he was trying to convey the importance of what he was saying. “Just stay inside the next couple of nights okay? And above all else; don't go into the woods.”

The older teens lips parted as he was about to speak again, but they were left silent as he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was turned around.

“Isaac. What'd I tell you about wandering off?” His father narrowed his eyes at him before he noticed Scott behind his son. “Oh,” The man's expression softened behind a mask as he nodded to the boy. “Good to see you Scott. How's your mother.”

Scott leveled a suspicious gaze at the farmer before speaking. “Good. I just came to run some errands for her, but I've got to go,” His dark brown eyes shifted to Isaac for a moment. “Hey remember what I said. I'll see you around.” And with that, he turned to leave, Isaac and his father heading off in the opposite direction and out of town.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The trip back to the farm wasn't a long one. They had procured a wagon to carry the wood, and had ridden it the few miles outside of town where they stayed. When they arrived, Isaac's father instructed him to unload the cargo.

“I want the fences around the farm reinforced by nightfall,” he tossed the bag of tools towards Isaac who caught them with a bit of effort as he pulled the last plank of wood from the wagon. “If I lose one piece of livestock because of this wolf nonsense, I'll lock you in the chicken-coop again.”

Isaac shuddered at the thought. After his mom passed away his father had taken to punishing him in the worst way possible. Even as a boy he had been claustrophobic and his mother had always comforted him about the fact, but his father had done quite the opposite. Since they had lost her, whenever is father was upset with him, he would lock Isaac in an empty cage with the chickens. Though he thought he would become accustom to it, it only got worse as he grew larger.

“The sheriff wants all the men going out on this hunt of his tonight. So I won't be back till around morning. You can feed yourself when the work is done.”

Isaac nodded in confirmation and watched as his father turned the wagon around and headed back towards town. A sense of relief invigorated his body as the older man disappeared from sight, and he began carrying things to their small farmhouse. 

Their home was a humble thing. Made out of bricks, it had two large rooms, a combined kitchen and dining area, and a small living room. A wooden porch had been constructed when Isaac was born, but otherwise the house had been standing for a great number of years the way it was. Behind it was a rundown windmill that his father hadn't bothered to fix, and to the right of that was a small barn and the chicken-coop. The latter of which Isaac avoided if he could. Besides chicken, they had sheep that roamed the area around the house, and two horses. All of which were hindered by a modest wooden fence that lay only a few yards from the neighboring forest.

Looking to the fence off in the distance, Isaac heaved a sigh before grabbing a few planks of wood and dragging them along. A few sheep bleated at him as he passed by, but moved out of his way. When he reached the fence, he dropped the majority of the wooden boards and began to progressively examine and replace the worn and broken ones.

The project was taxing, and it was mid afternoon when he had gotten the majority done. Sweat had begun to bead on his head despite the cool air and his hands were tired and worn. A cool breeze rushed by him, jostling his curls and making the grass sway in waves invitingly. Worn from work and realizing he didn't have much left, he laid down on the cool earth for a break, looking up at the sky. It was a relaxing break, and before he knew it his eyes were slowly fluttering closed.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Isaac finally opened his eyes again, night had fallen. His lids were heavy, and he was quite comfortable, but something was off. Something had awoken him. It had taken a second for him to gather his whits but when he did, he realized that it was the sheep that had disturbed him. They were restless, bleating and straying off in the opposite direction of him, as if they were startled by something.

Isaac turned to watch them go, and as he did the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up. The air felt thick and a chill ran down his spine as he got the feeling that he was being watched. Slowly he turned around to face the tree line just beyond the other side of the fence where he sat. He searched the darkness for a moment, looking for the source of the feeling until he found it. There directly in front of him, two golden eyes were trained on his own, glowing in the shadows.


	2. A bit of blood

Isaac sat silently, motionless as a stone sentry. Had he taken the time to care, he would have noticed that even his breathing had stopped. If at all possible, his heart would have done the same. The farm boy sat there for an undetermined amount of time as the eyes seemed to regard him. Eyes that were much to high to belong to a wolf. Eyes that were far too intelligent and calculating to belong to any animal. Curiously concerned eyes.

They blinked, the golden eyes. Once and then twice before they disappeared, taking whatever form they belonged to with them. Not a sound was heard as the creature retreated, and Isaac only knew for sure that it was gone until the chills he had felt subsided. Even still, it was a moment before he moved.

“What?” The word was breathless as it was cut off from what other curious thoughts were running through Isaac's mind.

He stood slowly, body stiff from laying down or tension, he wasn't sure, before surveying the area once more. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The sheep had gone back to grazing or sleeping, they're bleating dying down for the time being. The air was no longer thick with alarm but a hint of adrenaline still ran through his veins. Maybe it was the chemical that spurd him forward, but Isaac had the sudden urge to leap over the fence and move to the treeline. He was sure that whatever it was that had watched him was gone, but he was now curious. If it were a wolf, it was the largest he had ever heard of.

When he reached the trees, he was reluctant to step forward. The moonlight was much more dim beneath the interlacing branches. Ephemeral at best. Still, he moved forward, stepping into the brush, snapping twigs and rough leaves under his feet as he went. In the sparse light, he glanced about, standing in the exact same spot where he had seen the figure with the golden eyes. If there was a hint of what it was, it wasn't visible to him, so he turned to leave. As he moved about the dark brush, he stumbled, feet caught in the tangle of branches he had trampled. A shout slipped from his lips as he fell towards the earth, and he braced himself for the impact. 

Isaac hit the ground with a thud, but found that it wasn't quite as rough as he was suspecting. Nor was it dry. Something soft and wet had cushioned his face, while his knees and left side took the blunt of the fall, sure to sprout bruises. His first thought was that his face had landed on some ferns, but he knew that wasn't right. There was an odd smell to whatever it was. Familiar to him, but off. Definitely out of place for the woods. Pushing himself up to sit, he winced briefly before reaching out in front of him for whatever it was he had fallen upon. What his hand found purchase of was much more like cloth than anything else. In fact he was certain of it. Picking it up, he began to stand and head forward again when he heard the breaking of branches and rustling coming from nearby, behind him in the woods.

Turning, he saw torch light, little yellow orbs floating in and out of sight as they moved through the trees. It occurred to him that it was probably the hunting party, parading through the woods looking for the “wolf”. But why were they so close to the farm? Had they tracked that...thing here? If so, they were a bit too late, and it definitely wasn't a wolf. He would tell them that for certain.

As they got closer, he called out. “Here! Here!” The torch light changed direction, becoming more linear as the men headed in the direction of his voice, speaking hurriedly amongst themselves. There was a dozen of them or so he noticed, as they came from the trees into view, and he wondered where the rest were. He was certain that there were more. Mr Stilinksi, the sheriff and Stiles' father, was at the forefront of the group and held his torch out towards Isaac as he approached. His face was haggard and forlorn as he looked upon the boy, and then men behind him fell near silent, only whispering to themselves now. Isaac found it odd.

“Isaac. Are you okay? What are you doing out here?” The sheriff spoke to him like he was some sort of injured creature. Like he was fragile, likely to break at any moment. He didn't understand why.

“I'm fine,” he tilted his head to the side and drew out the words, obviously confused. “I was working on the fence when I saw something.” He omitted the part about sleeping as he didn't want it getting to his father. “I saw...I think the wolf but...not a wolf. It was something. It was too big to be a wolf, but it had these eyes that were glowing. It scared the sheep, so I think it was an animal but I'm not sure. I came out here to look around, but I fell and found this.” Isaac held the cloth out to the sheriff and with the gathered torch light he could finally see what it was.

It was definitely cloth. Familiar in the worst way. He recognized it as the same fabric that his father's shirt was made of, something his mother had made, but the color was wrong. It was stained in red. Blood. His brain provided, and suddenly he realized why the smell was off. It was metallic like, tangy in a way he couldn't explain. He had smelt the same thing before once at Scott's when his mother was tending to a man who had nearly cut off his own leg while chopping wood. Blood was all over the place.

He had to have been staring at the cloth for some time thinking, because the sheriff was talking, but he hadn't caught all of what he was saying.

“We were split up, tracking this...wolf. Your father and a few others cornered it, and it attacked. When the rest of us arrived, it headed off in this direction. We lost it for a while, but picked the trail back up around here. We don't know if it followed your father's scent here or not, but him and the others,” He paused and reached out to take the cloth from Isaac's hand. His grip on it was tight but when he felt the sheriff's touch he flinched and loosened it.

He felt like he was having deja vu, a conversation with someone that had already passed. Only instead of the sheriff, he could hear Mrs. McCall's voice. “I'm sorry Isaac, but he's not going to make it.”

The words were a double timber of past and present colliding. The world around him suddenly blurred. Yellow flames swirled in shadow all around him and gravity seemed to grow in strength. The earth suddenly began to move towards him, and the last image he saw before he blacked out was that of two golden eyes glowing in the darkness.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Isaac? Isaac can you hear me?”

“Mom?” The voice of a woman cut through the darkness of Isaac's dreams, goading him awake. It was familiar, but as the haze that filled his head slowly began to fade, he realized it wasn't his mother.

Slowly his eyes pried themselves open until he was able to find himself in a dimly lit but familiar room in the McCall's home. It was a large building, the perks of being the town doctor, but part of it was for medical use while the other smaller portion was living space. Isaac was in one of the two rooms used for Mrs. McCall's work. He noticed the woman sitting to his left, holding his hand, a look of concern written over her face that was quickly overridden with relief as he focused on her.

“What happened?” Isaac tried to sit up and winced as he was assaulted with a rush of pain from both his head and his abdomen. The doctor placed her free hand on him gently to urge him to lay down, but it wasn't necessary.

“The sheriff brought you in last night after you feinted in the woods. You hit your head pretty hard, and you might have bruised a rib at some point. You'll be sore for a while, but you'll be okay.”

Isaac used his right hand to gently touch his side. His shirt had been removed and his waist was bandaged tightly. Reaching up he let his fingers then dance across his forehead. It was bandaged and slightly damp. From sweat or blood, he couldn't tell, but the thought of the red fluid brought memories of the previous evening to mind. His throat suddenly went dry and his eyes began to itch as he tried to form the words he wanted to ask.

“My...my father? Is he?” Emotions chocked off his words and from the look on Mrs. McCall's face, he didn't need to inquire any further. He turned his face from her both in refusal to allow her to see his distress and to fight back the tears that were attempting to well there.

“I'm sorry honey. Is there anything I can do? Anything I can get you?” She squeezed his hand tightly, but he drew it away, answering quickly.

“Water. Please.” His words were broken. Both by emotion and his attempt to be short with her to brush off the subject.

She seemed to catch on as he heard her stand from the chair and move to the door. “I'll be right back.” The door opened and he heard her step outside before hushed words were exchanged with someone beyond. It sounded as if she were arguing with someone briefly before sighing exasperatedly, and the door reopened. It closed a moment later, and Isaac paid little attention to it before he heard someone come over and sit in the chair again.

He wondered briefly if she were going to push him to talk until he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was heavier than the doctor's, a bit more worked, he could feel on his bare skin. Still, he didn't move until he heard the voice.

“Isaac.” The sound of Scott's voice had him turning in his direction, and when he saw the concern in the others warm brown eyes, the tears that he had been holding back began to flow.

“Scott...I.” He blubbered for a moment before anything coherent was replaced by sobs and gasps for breath. The shorter teen moved from the chair closer to wrap his arms around Isaac, and the brunette suddenly found himself in a memory. He was still in the McCall's house, but much younger and in Scott's room, crying as his friend held him. The memory tore at him even harder and he sobbed more for a few moments before he was able to gently push Scott away.

“I'm so sorry,” Scott spoke, relinquishing all but Isaac's hand. He was so much like his mother that it was scary. Carrying and sweet, but strong in a unique way. It was something that Isaac always admired. Scott always seemed to know the right thing to do. The idea was so strong in Isaac's head that he didn't question the other boy holding his hand.

“I'm okay.” It was mostly a lie from Isaac, but he was attempting to reign in his emotions. He felt much more comforted with Scott there.

“How do you feel? Physically?” It wasn't until Scott mentioned it that the pain returned. “Like I was trampled. Your mom said I'd be fine though.”

“Hmm.” Scott nodded, and with his hand that held Isaac's he rubbed circles on the taller boys hand with his thumb. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Isaac, but the simple act somehow seemed to draw the pain away. “I told you to stay out of the woods.” Scott's tone was accusing, but not harsh, and Isaac felt a bit embarrassed.

“I saw something.” He said defensively, suddenly remembering the figure with the golden eyes that had watched him from the woods. The same figure that the sheriff said attacked his father. It hadn't seemed to hold any killing intent when it looked at him, but he had found his father's bloodied clothing there where it was. “I had to look.” He added.

“Yeah but I also told you to stay inside.” The other teen countered, this time narrowing his eyes at Isaac.

“I was inside.” He began to lie but Scott snorted.

“Sleeping outside isn't anywhere near inside.”

Isaac's blue orbs widened at the words and he stared at Scott wondering if he had spoken to the sheriff. His lips moved to ask but then he was fairly certain he hadn't told the sheriff that he had fallen asleep outside. So how did Scott know? He parted his lips to ask, when the door to the room slowly opened.

“Isaac,” It was Mrs. McCall. “I know you've just woken up but-” She opened the door a bit wider and the sheriff stepped in.

“I've got a few questions for you son.”


	3. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long for this chapter. Been a bit busy. My least favorite of the three, but it introduces another character, and paves the way for some others.

“I've told you all I know.”

Isaac sat in the living room of the McCall's, Scott on one side of him and his mother on the other, while the sheriff stood before the sofa they were sharing. Sheriff Stilinski had asked him to repeat what he had seen the previous night twice now in an attempt to find some sort of clue to what was going on. At this point Isaac had given up on focusing. It only made the memory of his loss more potent. Instead he tugged at the sleeves of the cotton shirt that Scott had given him, attempting to stretch out the sleeves that were slightly too short.

“I know. I know.” The sheriff looked more aged as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm just trying to figure this all out. You say whatever you saw was too tall to be a wolf, but you found the piece of clothing their. What happened last night was definitely an animal attack, but it doesn't look like it was caused by any animal I've heard of. It barely left any trace and moved incredibly fast. I don't know what to do.”

“Yes well I think that's all Isaac's got. We should let him rest some more. Maybe something will come to him after his mind has had some time to settle.” Mrs. McCall spoke as she rubbed circles on Isaac's back, and he looked up at the sheriff to gauge his response.

“Right. That'll be fine.” He dropped his arm to his side. “Let me know if you remember anything else. Whatever will help us hunt this thing down is crucial.”

“Sure. I'll do that.” Isaac nodded and the sheriff turned to leave, heading for the door. Isaac glanced over at Scott who seemed to be looking out of the window, deep in thought. Since the sheriff arrived he had seemed a bit distracted but Isaac wasn't sure why. He decided though he would ask after the sheriff left.

The sheriff made it to the door, grasping the handle, and as he pulled it open a figure stumbled in. Isaac and Scott turned their attention back towards the sheriff, just as Stiles fell into the room and onto the wooden floor.

“Stiles what are you doing here? Get off of the floor.” The sheriff grabbed his son by the arm and roughly pulled him to his feet. Stiles looked confounded and shook from his fathers arm, wide eyed and seemingly insulted.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?!” The teen pointed to Isaac. “I heard that my friend was hurt, so I came to check on him!” The two of them, father and son, stared at each other a silent moment, before the sheriff turned to the doctor.

“Mrs. McCall?” He asked in irritation. 

The woman shook her head and shrugged. “It's fine by me, as long as Isaac's up for visitors.”

The golden haired boy looked between the doctor and the sheriff wide eyed before blinking a few times and nodding. “Uh yeah. Yeah, it's fine. I'm alright.”

The sheriff sighed and looked at Stiles, narrowing his gaze. “You can stay. But if I find out you're sticking your nose in this wolf business, then I'll personally lock you up myself.” He widened his eyes for emphasis and then turned to leave. Behind his back, Stiles mouthed his words mockingly before moving over to the sofa where everyone was sitting. 

As Stiles approached, Mrs. McCall stood up. “I'm gonna see about making you boys something to eat. Isaac if you need anything, let me know.” With that, she left the room and the boys alone. Stiles was the first to speak when she was out of sight.

“So Isaac, how are you feeling buddy?” Stiles raised his eyebrows as he spoke, hands on his hips, looking between Isaac and Scott.

“I'm a bit sore, but otherwise alright.” Isaac rubbed his neck to emphasize.

“Good good.” Stiles nodded. “Good to hear. Yeah.” His hazel eyes slipped over to Scott and narrowed. “Can I talk to you in private?”

Scott looked surprised and pointed at himself. “Me? Why?”

“I need to ask you a question. Something important.” Scott looked at Isaac and the two of them exchanged confused glances as Stiles exhaled a sigh and ran a hand down his face. “Look, you're learning stuff from your mom right? Well I've got this weird rash thing and-”

“Okay okay! Enough Stiles.” Isaac cut him off and looked at Scott. “Go ahead, I'll be fine. Just gonna sit here for a minute. I haven't really had a chance to be alone since I, you know, woke up and stuff.”

“Are you sure?” Scott asked looking over Isaac concerned, but the taller teen just nodded. “Alright.” Scott got off of the sofa, and he and Stiles let the room, down a hall that Isaac remembered led to the McCall's bedrooms.

Alone, Isaac had time to silently organize his thoughts and to come to terms with things. His father was dead, killed by whatever it was that had come to Beacon Hills. He surmised that what he had heard before, the rumors about a large wolf or wolves ravaging cities, was true. But he couldn't figure why a pack would be traveling around there. Beacon Hills was too far west. They hadn't had a wolf attack as long as he could remember. If it were a wolf at all. That was the other thing bothering him. The mystery of what he had seen in the woods.

When Mrs. McCall came back into the room, Isaac's face was scrunched up in deep thought, and she looked about. “Where'd Scott and Stiles go? I need Scott to run and get some eggs. We're out.” She asked, bringing Isaac out of his thoughts all of a sudden.

“Oh. I think they're in Scott's room. Stiles needed him for something. I'll go and get him.” Isaac stood and winced slightly as a pain shot through his side momentarily.

“Honey sit down, I'll get him myself.” Her hands waved in the air as she moved towards him, ready to stymie any pain he was feeling, but he raised a hand to stop her.

“I'm alright, I'm alright. I just got up too fast. I'll go get Scott. I need to move around a bit anyway. I'm feeling stiff.” She silently conceded, and Isaac walked towards the hall where Scott's room was. The door to Scott's room at the end of the hall, was slightly ajar, and as Isaac slowly moved towards it, he could make out the sound of conversation.

“Scott where were you last night?!” He could hear Stiles asking frustrated. The sound of pacing feet also reached his ears.

“You know where I went Stiles.” The voice was moving so he assumed it was Scott. But why was he pacing? Isaac stopped moving himself, just outside the door to listen.

“Yeah, well maybe you should reconsider running around the woods at night.”

He could hear Scott sigh, “You know I can take care of myself Stiles.”

“Yeah well things might be a bit more dangerous with Hunters in the woods.”

Scott stopped pacing and Isaac's heartbeat got louder in his ears as the silence seemed to weigh on him.

“Hunters? What kind of Hunters?” Scott asked, and Isaac could tell that he was staring powerfully at Stiles just by the sound of his voice.

Stiles cleared his voice and sighed. “I overheard some of my dad's men talking this morning. Werewolf Hunters are coming to town.”


End file.
